


Footprints in the Sand

by HiddenTreasures



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Bad Wolf Bay, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Post-Episode: s04e13 Journey's End, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-20
Updated: 2016-11-20
Packaged: 2018-09-01 03:20:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,222
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8605255
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HiddenTreasures/pseuds/HiddenTreasures
Summary: The Doctor joins Rose on the beach while they wait for a taxi to collect them, and he makes one thing absolutely clear to her.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for timepetalsprompts weekly ficlet prompt of a Tentoo x Rose free for all.

As soon as the TARDIS dematerialized, Rose had stopped kissing him and had run towards the fading blue box. That had stung more than the Doctor would ever admit to her.

She looked so lost and confused as she stared at the imprint where the TARDIS used to be, that he did the only thing he could think of: he took her hand. She gripped his fingers tightly and rubbed his thumb with her own. The familiar action made his single human heart soar. They’d be okay, he reckoned. Eventually.

But then Jackie called out to them, telling them that Pete had sent a taxi service to pick them up, and their moment was broken. Rose dropped his hand like it had burned her and mumbled something about “needing a mo’” before she quickly walked off.

The Doctor looked after her, helpless, and turned back to Jackie. She was watching him with sympathetic eyes and a sorrowful smile.

“How are you, sweetheart?” she asked.

He shrugged.

“I’m always alright.”

Jackie scrutinized him, and the Doctor shifted uncomfortably under her gaze.

“Did you know what himself was going to do, then?”

The Doctor opened his mouth to answer, to deny any foreknowledge, but snapped it shut. It wasn’t that he _knew_ , per se; he and the other Doctor didn’t exactly plan this out, verbatim. But he’d had an idea, a niggling thought, an inkling, in the back of his mind ever since the Doctor started dropping people off at their respective homes.

“Not exactly,” he admitted, “but I suspected he’d try and make her stay here. With me. But I never thought he’d leave without saying a proper goodbye.”

Jackie snorted.

“Oh, please,” she said. “Rose told me all about Sarah Jane and the people you used to travel with. You’d just drop them off without another word.”

“Rose is different,” he growled vehemently. “Always has been.”

Then he glanced down at his trainers, scuffed up and sand-covered. A lump was forming in his throat.

“What if she resents being here?” he asked quietly. “Or what if she doesn’t believe I’m the Doctor?”

“Are you?” Jackie asked abruptly.

“Of course!” he insisted. “I’m the Doctor, just as much as he is. Just a more human-y Doctor. But everything we ever did together, I still remember it.”

“Well go tell her that, then,” Jackie said, shoving him in the direction Rose disappeared.

The Doctor allowed himself to be pushed forward a few steps before saying, “She seemed to want to be left alone.”

Jackie smacked his shoulder. The Doctor grunted and recoiled from the sting, massaging his arm delicately.

“You go over there right now and you talk to her,” Jackie ordered.

The Doctor nodded, swallowing the lump of nerves in his throat.

And that was where he found her, along the coastline of the beach sitting on an outcropping of rocks. The gentle breeze was tossing her hair into her face, and the sun was glaring off of the water’s surface, making his eyes sting.

Blimey, his new human body was sensitive. He had goosebumps from the chill in the air, and the sand in his shoes was irritating his skin.

The Doctor slowly approached her and sat down beside her. She made no comment, but shifted slightly to give him more room. He took that as a good sign.

His mouth opened and closed a few times, wanting to say something, but not knowing what. This was ridiculous. This was _Rose_ , for crying out loud. He could tell her anything; at least, he used to be able to tell her anything. He hoped he still could.

“Chilly out, innit?”

He could’ve drowned himself. The bloody weather? _That’s_ what his brain decided to blurt out?

Rose glanced at him out of the corner of her eye, and her mouth quirked up in amusement.

“Was colder last time,” she said softly. “At least it’s summer, now. Was late autumn the last time I was here.”

The Doctor’s heart clenched in his chest. Yes, it had looked cold on Rose’s end of the projection. But he didn’t want to waste their precious two minutes asking her about the weather. Though he hadn’t actually gotten around to telling her what he’d wanted to say, either.

“Was windier too, if I recall,” the Doctor mused quietly, despite having that day still branded into his memory as though it had happened yesterday.

They dissolved into an uncomfortable silence, and the Doctor stared at his feet as his trainers dug a pit into the damp sand.

“I really am the Doctor, you know,” he said softly, digging his foot deeper and deeper and wriggling his toes against the rough grains of sand in his socks.

“Yeah, I know,” Rose said, pushing her own feet through the mound of sand and burying his toes in the trench he made. “Gonna get you to explain it to me completely. Later though. It’s been a long day.”

“Yeah,” he said, watching her foot pack sand around his.

“He was wrong, you know,” he said suddenly.

“Wrong about what?” she asked, finally looking at him for the first time.

“I don’t need you,” he said, and he realized a moment too late how those words might sound.

Rose’s eyes hardened and she clenched her jaw before turning away from him.

“Fine,” she mumbled, glaring out at the sea. “You can leave—”

“Let me finish,” he said, tentatively resting his hand on her thigh. “I don’t need you, Rose. I’ve gotten by on my own for a thousand years. But I do _want_ you. A thousand years of traveling, sometimes on my own, sometimes with friends, because I wanted the company. I’m perfectly fine on my own. But I don’t want to be anymore. I’m tired of being alone. I _will_ spend the rest of my life with you, because I want to, but I want you to want me, too. I won’t burden you if it’s not what you really—”

A pair of familiar lips pressed against his own, cutting off his nervous ramble. He relaxed into the kiss and brought his hand up to cup the back of her neck to deepen the kiss.

It had been years (well, not counting their interrupted snog from ten minutes ago), but his lips and tongue still remembered hers and he was soon re-exploring the contours of her mouth. She seemed to still enjoy having his tongue flick across the ridges of her mouth, and she remembered that he loved when she sucked and nipped his bottom lip.

The Doctor’s lungs were burning and he felt light-headed, so he eased them out of the kiss. He pressed one, two, three soft kisses to her lips before resting his forehead against hers.

“I want you, too, Doctor,” she whispered, slowly nuzzling her chilly nose against his. “I’ve missed you.”

“I missed you too,” he whispered as he scooted closer to her to wrap her in a hug.

“We’ll be all right, yeah?” she asked, rubbing a hand across his chest to feel his singular heat beat strongly beneath her fingers.

“Oh, yes,” he whispered, dropping a kiss to the top of her head. “I plan on making the most of this one life with you, Rose Tyler, and I’ll not settle for anything short of fantastic.”

 

 


End file.
